


Riding In Cars With Nephilims

by doilycoffin



Series: Wincest Love Week 2018 [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Driving, Family Bonding, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 06:15:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15066935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doilycoffin/pseuds/doilycoffin
Summary: When Dean realizes that Jack doesn't know how to drive, he can't very well just let that stand. Everyone deserves to experience the freedom of cruising down a long stretch of road, right?





	Riding In Cars With Nephilims

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: taking care of Jack

Dean wasn't sure what made him offer to teach Jack to drive. If he asked Sam, and there was no way in hell that he was going to, he would probably going on an annoying spiel and say that Dean did it because he secretly desired having his own child to pass down important life skills to and was projecting those unfulfilled paternal feelings onto Jack. Hypothetical Sam wasn't  _entirely_  wrong if he was being completely honest with himself, but generally he was able to bury those infrequent yearnings for fatherhood with the finest, cheap whisky that whatever dive bar he stumbled into had to offer. And if he was feeling  _really_  maudlin, he'd think about how he  _did_  have a shot at fatherhood once, years ago now, and he could barely keep Ben alive much less teach him how to drive. He should be about the same age that Jack is (or the same age that he appears to be at least) now that he thinks about it and he wonders who it was that ended up teaching Ben how to drive, if it was Lisa herself or if it was someone who was capable of being an actual father to him. 

 

 But maybe hypothetical Sam was full of shit and he did it simply because of the way that he sometimes saw Jack stare wistfully out of the window of whatever greasy diner they were eating at because he noticed a group of smiling teenagers pile into their car and speed away to do whatever the hell it was that kids did these days. And Dean got that; being a jacked up Nephilim with teleportation powers was convenient and all but, in his opinion, having the ability  to drive on the open road beat riding the Angel Express any day of the week. 

 

Hell, maybe he just did it because he was sick of sitting around the bunker and wanted to focus on anything other than the constant, nagging fear he had that he would wake up one day to find out that Lucifer had managed to claw his way back to their universe and was ready to wreck shop. 

 

Regardless of the motivation, the end result was that he committed himself to being Jack's driving Yoda and although he wasn't about to voice the next part aloud, he felt immediately vindicated by his decision when he saw just how damn happy the kid was that Dean wanted to spend time with him. The fact that he would also win major points with Sam for doing it hadn't crossed his mind until after the fact, but it was still a definite perk. 

 

~~~~~~~~~

 

"--and that's why I-35 is a nightmare portal to Hell and should be avoided at all costs."

 

Jack's eyes widened but he continued to steadily focus his gaze on the road, taking his driving lesson too seriously to look away even for a second despite the fact that that there was no one else on the road and no other potential obstacles. 

 

"There's really a portal to Hell there?," he asked, alarmed. 

 

"He wasn't being literal but...yeah, it kind of is one," Sam piped up from the backseat, shrugging. He had insisted on coming along for the ride, something about making sure that Dean didn't have an aneurysm or freak out at Jack if he somehow managed to scratch or otherwise mildly damage the Impala. He wanted to be offended by that, but it was probably a fair point. 

 

"Okay, maybe it's not a  _real_  portal to Hell, but I'd bet anything that the highway was at least designed by actual demons. Or maybe it's just all the drivers who are demons; at least that would explain why no one uses their goddamn turn signal and can't merge for shit," Dean conceded. Jack still seemed a bit confused, but he accepted it easily enough and Dean could practically picture him filing away the mental note in case he needed it for later. He really was treating the whole process as if it were life and death, and the way he rigidly sat in the drivers seat and had his fingers in a death grip around the wheel reminded him a bit of when Sam was first learning to drive. 

 

They'd been at it for a few hours now, and Jack was still eager to absorb whatever information Dean was willing to give him as if he was convinced that Dean giving him a driving lesson was a one-time deal and he needed to soak in everything he could before it abruptly ended. It wasn't a particularly charitable assumption towards him, but given their previous track record Dean supposed he couldnt blame Jack for being doubtful about his willingness to spend time with him. He was enjoying himself more than he thought he would though and found himself surprisingly eager to teach Jack all of the tips and tricks about driving that he'd picked up over the decades.  

 

Sam unfortunately gave Jack his own unfavorable opinion on some of those tips (such as the ones about when it was acceptable to roll down the car window and flip off other drivers, under what circumstances making a technically illegal u-turn is an okay thing to do, and how to flirt one's way out of a traffic ticket). 

 

"Honestly though, one of the most important things to do is just  pay attention. The reason that most people get into accidents is because they're dumbasses who let themselves get distracted because they're trying to do two things at once," he explained.

 

"I've seen you eat an entire steak dinner while driving down the highway," Sam pointed out. Dean barely resisted the urge to make Jack pull over so they could ditch him on the side of the road. Jack probably wouldn't do it anyway, the traitor. 

 

"That's called an advanced maneuver," he said defensively. "...and shut up. I'm trying to focus on imparting my wisdom so he can be a kickass driver like me." 

 

He thought the eyeroll from Sam was entirely uncalled for. 

 

"When I become a 'kickass driver' does that mean I'll be able to drive your car all the time," Jack asked, almost giddy at the prospect. 

 

"Hell no," he answered reflexively. It was one thing to let the kid drive his baby under supervision, but it was another to let him take her for a spin when he wasn't there to sure she was being treated properly. He immediately winced after he said it though, especially because he saw the way Jack slumped and his previously chipper attitude seemed to dim. Seeing Sam glare at him in the rearview mirror wasn't helping either. 

 

"That doesn't mean you can't drive  _other_  cars though," he placated. "And if you can handle driving Baby, then you can handle just about anything. You're a natural, kid." 

 

Jack almost immediately perked up and Dean nearly sighed in relief at how easily Jack was able to go from "kicked dog" to "ball of sunshine." 

 

"You really think I'll be able have my own car someday?," he said with wonder in his voice. "A really big one, even?" 

 

Dean raised his eyebrow. "Uh...sure? You suddenly having aspirations of becoming a soccer mom or something?" 

 

"They have room for more people," Jack replied very matter of factly. "So I think I could make a lot of friends if I had a large car to drive them places with. Don't you think so?" 

 

Jack's voice was filled with a kind of longing that made Dean's chest constrict just the barest amount in sympathy. 

 

"Sure, Jack," he said softly. "A whole mess of them." 

 

"Maybe we could even give each other road head!" Jack continued, cheerfully oblivious about the the newly somber mood of the car. Well, that was one way to break it, Dean thought as he stared wide eyed at Jack with his mouth agape. 

 

"Give each other  _what_?!" Sam demanded, straining against his seatbelt as he leaned forward in his seat, looking somewhat faint. 

 

"I heard Dean talk to you about it once," he explained hesitantly, confused by the shocked reactions he received. "He said something like 'maybe you can give me a little bit of road head later.' I thought it was some kind of game that you play when you're in a car with someone." 

 

"That isn't--, I mean, you shouldn't--," Sam sputtered, trying and failing to find and adequate way to explain to Jack why it was a bad idea to solicit road head from people while also not actually telling him what that meant. On any other day, the sight of his brother completely short circuiting like a malfunctioning robot would have delighted Dean to no end, but it wasn't quite as much fun when he was also mildly panicking. 

 

"Hey Jack," he cut in, deciding to swiftly change the subject instead, "Why don't you pull into that burger joint that's just up ahead so we can celebrate your first day as a driver with some grub?" 

 

Just as he'd hoped, the idea of a celebratory meal made Jack too excited to continue the subject, and he happily flicked on the turn signal in preparation as both Dean and Sam sagged in relief. 

 

 About an hour later, after Dean had eaten a fairly decent bacon cheeseburger as Sam picked at a cobb salad and Jack guzzled down an entirely too large chocolate milkshake, they were back on the road again, with Dean at the wheel this time since it was already dark outside. There was a comfortable silence in the car, interrupted only by Dean occasionally offering Jack some miscellaneous driving tips and by the sound of Led Zeppelin quietly playing to provide ambiance. Dean hadn't been able to fully launch into his prepared, elaborate lesson about appropriate driving music that day, but he figured that he should at least get started on the basics. Meanwhile, Sam was napping in the backseat, curled up against the passenger door in a way that made Dean's back and neck ache just to look at. 

 

"I didn't thank you before," Jack said when they were about half-way to the bunker. "But I'm really grateful that you took the time to teach me today. It was nice of you." 

 

"Hey, don't mention it.," Dean said, waving he gratitude off. "There's more to cars than just driving them though; we actually have some in the garage that could use a few repairs if you wanted me to show you the ropes...maybe when we're finished working on one, you can even use it as your own car." When the offer was followed by silence ,he busied himself with picking imaginary lent off of his jeans, embarrassed. 

 

When he looked over to the passenger seat though, the only thing he saw was a blinding smile on Jack's face and he figured that was as good an answer as any. For the rest of the trip back, Dean felt more at ease than he had been in a long time, just driving down that long quiet stretch of road with a full belly, his brother snoring softly as he slept peacefully, and Jack sitting next to him, quietly tapping his fingers in rhythm with the music. 

 

Not a bad day at all. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~

 

It wasn't authentic or anything since they didn't have to wait at the DMV for ten hours to get it, but when Dean presented Jack with a shiny, freshly forged driver's license a few weeks later and announced that his driving skills were Dean Winchester approved, the kid clutched it like it was made of precious  gold and announced his achievement to anyone who came within a five foot radius of him. 

 

Sometimes, Dean would catch him quietly admiring it, running his fingers over the laminated surface and pausing them under the name printed at the top: Jack Kline-Winchester. 


End file.
